


Courteous and Rough

by wilma_de_worde



Series: A Thousand Apologies [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 221B Baker Street, 221B Ficlet, Gen, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Parentlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 06:36:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1541210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilma_de_worde/pseuds/wilma_de_worde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>221B Ficlet One-off.  A quiet evening on Baker Street.  (JohnLock; ParentLock; appearances by Will and Hamish; silly fluff for your Tuesday).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Courteous and Rough

Something warm and insistent lapped at his throat. Sherlock hummed and smiled in his sleep, his neck stretching of its own volition. Gentle pressure on his hip pulled a sigh from his diaphragm, his tongue wetting his lips.

‘Sherlock…’ 

Another sigh, high and soft; long fingers twitching on smooth skin and shifting muscle. ‘Hm…?’ Sharp, delightful pain sinking into his collar. His eyes fluttered open as he gasped.

‘Shh…’ Steady hands and roving tongue; strong, slicked fingers snaking between his legs; moist lips on his own, stifling his groan. John’s smile in the dark. ‘You’ll wake the baby…’

How long had it been: days, weeks, mere hours? He didn’t know and it didn’t seem to matter much now. To his trembling, desperate body it had been an eternity at least since he’d last felt John’s touch. He bit down on his tongue or his lips or John’s offered palm to keep from moaning, his hips rolling like second nature to meet John’s even, hurried thrusts. John’s weight above him, against him, inside him melted his nerves better than any opiate, and he mewled to find his frenzied mind fading to calm, black silence.

After all this time, through resurrection and death and three-year-old tantrums, there would never be anything in this world or the next that felt as sweet and right as this.

His fingers knitted in John’s hair, pressing kisses to his sweaty brow. His belly shivered under the cooling stickiness of his release as John slowly relaxed inside of him. He refused to think of the baby waking soon, of Mrs Hudson calling up the stairs or Lestrade appearing at their door just as they were leaving to take Will to nursery. All of that was window dressing and all of it could wait. John sighed and shifted, easing out of him with a contented growl. He looked up and smiled, bending to lick Sherlock’s stomach clean. Sherlock chuckled on a moan, his fingers lacing in messy hair, mussed crazy by his earlier tugs. John pressed a final kiss to his chest and laid his head on Sherlock’s belly. Everything on Baker Street was quiet and well.

As usual, this lasted all of forty-five seconds.

A soft wail carried down the stairs. John groaned.

‘I’ll go.’

‘No, it’s fine--’

‘John.’ He smiled, towing him up for a kiss. ‘Back in a moment. Don’t go anywhere.’ He untangled himself from John’s legs and grabbed his dressing gown, pulling it on as he made his way up the stairs.

He found Will curled up on his small bed, tears clinging to his eyelashes. ‘Daddy?’

‘Hello, darling.’ Will crawled into his lap, wet face tucking against his father’s long neck. Sherlock wrapped his arms around him. ‘Bad dream?’

‘Where’s Papa?’

‘He’s downstairs guarding Hamish.’

‘He okay?’

‘He’s safe as houses, darling.’ He found himself petting Will’s sweaty hair. ‘Was your dream about him?’ Will’s shoulders went rigid. It was a moment before he nodded. Sherlock squeezed him a little tighter, his voice low. ‘I have those dreams, too.’

‘You have bad dreams?’

‘Many. Not as many as I used to.’

‘Does Papa?’

‘He does, yes.’ He smiled. ‘Not as many as he used to, either.’

Will considered this a moment, his small fist curling around the collar of Sherlock’s dressing gown. Sherlock rested his cheek against his blonde mop, gently rocking him as he smoothed his back. ‘Daddy?’

‘Hm?’

‘’M scared t’ go to sleep.’

‘I know.’ He nuzzled his hair. ‘Would you like to kip with Papa and me?’ He nodded. ‘Alright.’ He hefted Will up and stood, Will’s thin arms wrapping around his neck. ‘Much safer down there, isn’t it?’

‘Mm-hm.’

‘Papa scares off all sorts of dragons.’ He smiled to hear Will’s quiet giggle and pressed a kiss to his cheek before heading back downstairs.

John greeted them both with a sleepy smile. Will went stiff at the sight and a fresh wave of tears cascaded down Sherlock’s neck. Sherlock tickled him until he peeked up and smiled. ‘See, darling?’ he whispered. ‘Down here with Hamish, safe and sound.’ Will nodded.

‘Hullo, bug.’ Sherlock set him on the bed and he immediately burrowed against John. ‘Come here... Oh… Okay?’

‘Okay.’ Will sniffled and rubbed at his nose.

‘Daddy fixed it?’

‘He tried.’ John chuckled and kissed his forehead. ‘He did okay,’ Will consented.

‘A rave review.’ He glanced at Sherlock. ‘Daddy does his best, love.’

‘Yeah.’ Will pressed closer to John with a sleepy sigh. ‘He’s good.’

Sherlock found his pants on the floor and tugged them on before crawling back into bed. John leaned against him a moment. He wrapped an arm around John’s belly, his other snaking under his neck. Will grabbed his finger. He smiled and wiggled it. ‘You’re right, William,’ he sighed, ‘This is loads better.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Isn’t Papa an excellent teddy?’

‘Sherlock…’

‘Uh-huh!’

‘Give him a kiss for me, would you?’

‘Sherl--’ A wet, slurping sound echoed through the room. ‘Will!’ The conspirators giggled. ‘Jesus… Ugh. No more milk before bedtime! That’s foul.’

‘Daddy told me to!’

‘Now, William, you must take responsibility for your actions.’

‘But you did!’

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘You did!’

‘Huh. I must have deleted it.’ John elbowed him. ‘Ow!’ Another bout of giggles erupted from the other side of the bed. He peeked over John’s head and winked. Will very nearly winked back. He was getting better at that. 

‘Alright, children.’ He could hear John’s smile. ‘Back to sleep, the both of you. You’ll wake up Hamish and I shall be very put out.’

‘I thought you already put out. Ow!’

‘What’s that mean?’ the boy yawned.

‘Ignore your father, Will. He’s having me on.’

‘No, I _had_ you on-- Ow! Really, John, in front of the children?’

John craned his head and nipped Sherlock’s shoulder, his voice a throaty growl that went straight to Sherlock’s toes. ‘Shut it and I’ll get you back later.’

Sherlock smiled, his fingers grazing John’s waistband in an entirely appropriate manner. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Shh… You guys…’ Will muttered. ‘’M trying to sleep.’

‘Sorry, darling.’ He grinned and nuzzled against John’s neck. His responding sigh was perfectly in tune with Will’s. 

All was quiet and well on Baker Street. He drifted off hoping it would last a little longer this time.

**Author's Note:**

> So far, everything I'm writing is existing in the same general AU that follows canon pretty closely (Series Title: A Thousand Apologies). Just, you know, for the record. There will be more; I just haven't written all of it yet.
> 
> I have nothing but gratitude and unconditional love for my offsite beta, Vincent 'Buttons' Price, who is an inspiration to me on a daily basis and requires frequent fwumping. If you are unfamiliar with fwumping, I am very sad on your behalf and volunteer to demonstrate on you should we ever be in the same place at the same time.
> 
> I don't own any of the characters I write about; I just love them to the depths of my heart and the tips of my toes. Please don't sue me, Steven Moffat. I already fear and admire you. Mark Gatiss, you can sue me, but only if you do it while dressed as Joan Crawford or Bamber Gascoigne. I'm not picky.


End file.
